It’s interesting to me that each long fallow period on this blog has coincided with a significant crise de career. The last one was cancer-inspired, but more about work than mortality. And this one…I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m still struggling with what I want to be when I grow up. Am I in the right position? Am I doing valuable work? Am I poised to get to where I want to be next?
Who would have thought my most profound existential angst would be generated by work? In college, I was the kind of “feminist” who planned to quit work the minute she married her rich husband, not out of any major commitment to homemaking and childrearing, but just because a free vacation sounded like a right treat.